


Days of Rain

by Odyle



Category: Caprica (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-17
Updated: 2010-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets exploring the relationships of the women of Caprica between season 1.0 and season 1.5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



> This is a string of ficlets, some of which are more connected than others, with a concentration on relationships.

She had spent so many years with someone else beside her that it felt strange to sleep alone. The drugs dulled the pain, but not the uneasiness of having the bed to herself. Sometimes she would reach out in the night for a chest to lay a hand on or hair to brush her fingers through. Cold sheets greeted her touch and jolted her back to awareness.

When Zoe had been little and Daniel had gone away on business trips, Amanda had pulled her daughter into bed with her. They’d watched girly movies and played with each other’s hair. Zoe had been so excited to share the bed with mother that sometimes it took until the early hours of the morning for her to settle down into sleep. It was a comfort to have Zoe beside her even when Daniel couldn’t be.

“You will never recover if you don’t sleep,” Clarice said. She was cooking Amanda breakfast, like she had every morning since they had arrived in the cabin. Even when Amanda had been too sick to eat much or when the pain killers killed her appetite, Clarice cooked for her.

“I know,” Amanda said. She turned her juice glass slowly, watching the facets catch the muted morning light. Thunderstorms had struck up overnight. When morning broke, so did the rain.

On nights when the thunder had been loud, they all crowded into bed together. Zoe would settled down between them, as if they and they alone could shield her from the thunder outside. Daniel stroked Zoe’s hair while Amanda wrapped her arms around her. They watched the lightning strike the forest at the far side of the lake until they all fell asleep.

The fire had changed it all. There had been no more sleeping together for comfort. Amanda had relied on wine to get her sleepy enough to drop off on the couch while watching old movies. Out here in the cabin there was no television and hobbling to the kitchen for wine in the middle of the night took more energy than Amanda had.

“When’s the rain supposed to stop?”

Clarice set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Amanda, who looked at it with disinterest. She was good to Amanda, but she could never bring her the comfort that had come with watching Zoe sleep.

“Tomorrow morning,” Clarice said. “Now eat.”

Amanda found that she could not. Instead, she turned the glass in her hand, scattering a rainbow across the table.


	2. Comfort

Lacy holed up in the library to wait for a break in the rain. Everyone had left as quickly as they could or hadn’t even shown up for this last day of classes before the long holiday. By the time she realized she had missed her bus, the school was deserted. The custodian hadn’t come through to lock up the building yet, so she slipped into the library to wait. A bus would come or the rain would break. Lacy didn’t mind the wait, as it kept her away from home.

She pulled a book from the shelf at random and settled down in a window seat to kill time. It was a book of comparative biology Lacy discovered. Such a thing would have made her stomach turn a few months ago. Blood and guts had always sent her running. Zoe had teased her about it, but stood by her when she refused to do any dissections in science class. Lacy ran a finger over the image on the page she opened to, tracing along the lines that added up to a cross section of a bear’s heart.

“Comparative biology. How admirably academic,” Clarice said. She stood over Lacy, trapping her in the window seat where she’d curled up. “Though God will not forgive you for abandoning him for a career in zoology.”

Lacy snapped the book closed, hugging it close to her chest. Her head buzzed—she couldn’t find words for the headmistress. She had been avoiding Clarice since that night. Lacy’s chest tightened each time she saw Clarice in the halls. There was a compulsion to hide, as if Clarice would be granted sudden clarity by God and know of Lacy’s betrayal.

“I will give you one last chance to prove your faithfulness.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You were so good, so faithful once upon a time. What happened to that girl?”

“I grew up."

Lacy stood, with the book still clutched to her chest, forcing Clarice back a step. She had done this dance with her mother a hundred times over. They stood close, enough that Lacy could feel the warmth of Clarice’s body. Her mother stood this close when she screamed insults at Lacy. She had to stand further away when she wanted to throw punches.

“If you are an adult, then you must face your actions like one.”

“God will show me the way.”

“Do you believe that in your heart?”

Lacy couldn’t decide if the drumming in her ears was the heavy rain on the windowpanes or the blood rushing in her ears. A hand found her book bag and she slipped it over one shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Lacy… just believing in the one true god is not enough.”

“I choose to do God’s work in different ways,” Lacy said and pushed past Clarice. She walked toward the door to the library, concentrating on the simple act. The rain still beat a tattoo on the roof and windows. It soaked her as she stopped outside, her uniform clinging to her skin, but Lacy only stopped to slip the book into her book bag. If Clarice was following, Lacy ignored her.

When Lacy made it beyond the front gates of the Academy, she ran.


	3. An Act of Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacy meets a kind stranger.

Lacy hugged her backpack close to her body in an effort to keep it dry. There was no way she could afford to replace the book if it got ruined. If Zoe had been alive, she would have taken the book and lied to her parents, said the book was hers, and paid the fines.

A car stopped at the corner where Lacy was waiting to cross, though the light in front of it was green. The driver rolled down her window.

“Can I give you a ride?” asked the woman.

She reminded Lacy of the women at the Graystones’ parties. Her haircut was practical, and her suit modestly cut but still in a fashionable make. She looked as if she would be just as at home clutching a martini while chatting with the Libran Minister of Home Affairs as she did behind the wheel of her car. Lacy had never known what do do around those women. They seemed so far above her that she had avoided them, only speaking to mutter answers when Mrs. Graystone seated her beside them at dinners.

“No thank you,” Lacy yelled over the din of the rain. “It’s only another block.”

“At least take my umbrella.”

The woman reached over to the passenger side and came up with an umbrella. She held it out to Lacy by the tip.

“I couldn’t,” Lacy said, taking a step back from the car.

“You need it more than I do. Take it.”

The light turned yellow and the woman held the umbrella out a little further.

“Take it. It’s a gift.”

Lacy took a tentative step forward and gripped the end of the umbrella with her free hand. The woman smiled at Lacy as she took the umbrella, and Lacy regretted almost refusing the offer. Sometimes she forgot that not everyone in the world was cruel every hour of the day. Zoe would have gotten in the car with this woman. She wasn’t naive about the danger, just possessed of a bravado that Lacy had never understood. It drove the Graystones mad.

“Are you sure I can’t drive you?” the woman asked again.

“No… I’m okay.”

The woman looked her over, disbelief clear in her eyes. Lacy looked away and concentrated on the umbrella. Open, it was big enough that it would keep her backpack dry.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” the woman replied.


End file.
